


shall i compare thee to a high school play?

by nezumiprefersdanielleovershakespeare



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 19:31:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10997502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezumiprefersdanielleovershakespeare/pseuds/nezumiprefersdanielleovershakespeare
Summary: Shion is Romeo, and Nezumi is Juliet, and maybe it's just a high school play, but Shion means every single one of his lines to his best friend and only hopes he can keep his true feelings disguised as an act.





	shall i compare thee to a high school play?

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote and posted this fic in August, 2013. 
> 
> I'm reposting some of my old fics from the many accounts I previously deleted over the past few years, so if you're familiar with my fics and want to request that I repost a certain old fave, feel free to message me at my tumblr: http://coolasamackerel.tumblr.com or comment on this post: http://coolasamackerel.tumblr.com/post/160488980276/danielles-nezushifree-fics and I'll be happy to consider reposting it! For both my new readers and my old guys, hope you enjoy the fic!! :D

Shion had not known, when he’d signed up to participate in his high school’s reenactment of _Romeo and Juliet_ for extra credit in his English class _,_ that he had a knack for acting. When he was cast as Romeo, it came as a bigger shock to him than to anyone else that actually belonged to the drama department.

            Perhaps the only greater shock was that the role of Juliet had also been given to a boy – and not just any boy.

            “Where’s Nezumi?” the drama director droned, at the first rehearsal.

            Shion fidgeted in his chair, craning around to look for his best friend.

            “Damn this boy. Thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he’s better than anyone else,” the director muttered, perhaps louder than he’d intended.

            At that moment, the doors at the back of the auditorium swung open, revealing a tall, dark haired teenager, whose disheveled appearance suggested he’d just come from a nap.

            “Late again, Nezumi! I won’t tolerate this!” the director crowed.

            Nezumi did not acknowledge him. His eyes scanned the seats quickly, coming to rest on Shion, whom he joined at a leisurely pace, slumping down into the seat next to him and throwing his book bag on the floor.

            “He’s sorry. It won’t happen again,” Shion apologized, knowing Nezumi wasn’t going to do it.

            “We all know that’s bullshit,” the director muttered again, before clapping his hands together to call the attention of the rest of the cast. He continued with a summary of the background of the play while Shion turned to Nezumi.

            “Did you look at the cast list?”

            “Nah. What are you, a peasant?” Nezumi asked, stretching out like a cat and letting his arm fall over the back of Shion’s seat.

            “No. You should have looked. You don’t even know what part you got?”

            “Better not be Mercutio. If that fucker kills me off halfway through the play I’ll kill him.”

            “You shouldn’t disrespect the director. He’s a teacher.”

            “He’s full of shit. This is the first year he’s let us do Shakespeare, and it wasn’t even his first choice. I thought I’d have to complete high school without reenacting the Bard.”

            Shion rolled his eyes, used to Nezumi’s spiels on his rivalry with the director. However, there were much more important things to discuss.

            “You’re not Mercutio.”

            “Good.”

            “You’re Juliet.”

            Nezumi’s surprise was only a quick flicker of his eyelids, and even that, no one but Shion would have noticed. “Ah.”

            “Has he ever cast a guy as a girl before?”

            “No, but the damn sexist has never done a play where we’ve needed a strong female lead. And all the girls in drama club suck. I don’t even know why they bother, they don’t even seem to like acting.”

            “They’re here for you,” Shion said. He wasn’t surprised when Nezumi shot him a skeptical look. The man could be an idiot. “Don’t you want to know who Romeo is?”

            “The suspense is killing me,” Nezumi said as he stifled a yawn. 

            Shion hesitated. “Nezumi… I can’t remember from the other plays – Does the director make us reenact kissing scenes?”

            “This is high school, Shion, not kindergarten.”

            “How true to the play do you think he’ll stay? Does he ever do, say, alternate endings? Put his own spin on scripts?”

            “Perhaps I’m being generous, but I don’t even think the director is stupid enough to try and put his own spin on Shakespeare. If he is, I’ll set him straight.”

            Shion sank into his seat, letting the conversation die. He wondered if Nezumi would still feel this way when he found out who Romeo was.

            Shion and Nezumi had been best friends since Nezumi had moved to the town in first grade. As they’d grown, Shion had slowly come to the startling realization that he felt something more for Nezumi than just platonic love, but he’d never said anything about it, and didn’t plan to unless Nezumi made a move first.

            It wasn’t that he thought Nezumi would be cruel if he rejected him – Shion simply valued their friendship more than he was willing to put it at risk if he confessed his own feelings.

            This play seemed a very dangerous method of putting both Shion and Nezumi’s feelings to the test. Shion wondered if he should resign, but the thought of someone else on the cast getting to kiss Nezumi in place of him made Shion a bit angry, so he stayed quiet in his seat.

            “Now, you should all have seen your parts from the cast lists posted around the school,” the director was continuing. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know their part?”

            No one raised their hand, and after a quick pause, the director continued.

            “Good. We’ll start with a read through for today, just so we can get a feel of the play and our parts. Everyone come up here and grab a script. There is one change that I’ve made, in that Romeo and Juliet will not kiss until the end scene in order to heighten the impact. Previous scenes where the two lovers kiss have been amended in the scripts I have up here.”

            Shion’s relief was not very significant. Maybe they wouldn’t kiss as often, but putting it off until the end seemed just as bad. He grudgingly climbed over Nezumi’s splayed legs and brought scripts back for both of them, though he was fairly sure Nezumi would hardly need his but for the amended scenes. He knew all of Shakespeare’s plays front to back.

            They began reading, and Shion sweat silently on his seat, anticipating Romeo’s first line, which unfortunately came in the first act of the first scene. Perhaps if it’d come a little later, Nezumi would have fallen asleep before he had to say anything.

            “ ‘Good morrow, cousin.’ ”

            Shion glanced at Nezumi once. He was staring up at the ceiling, frowning slightly, and Shion guessed he was inwardly critiquing the deliveries of the other cast member’s lines.

            “Er, I said, _‘Good morrow, cousin,’_ ” the casted Benvolio repeated, during Shion’s pause.

            Shion took a deep breath. “ ‘Is the day so young?’ ”

            Nezumi’s foot, which had been propped on the back of the chair in front of him, smacked on the floor loudly, and Shion knew his friend was looking at him. He stared desperately at his script, refusing to look up.

            And so they stayed for the rest of the read through. Shion refused to look up, but the entire time he could feel Nezumi’s stare, even while the teen delivered Juliet’s lines. The scenes where just Romeo and Juliet conversed were painful, and the last scene was one of particular agony.

            Shion wanted to do nothing more than crawl under the seats in front of him, but as they say in showbiz, the show must go on.

            At least, until six o’ clock, when the director called an end to their first rehearsal after he’d delivered critique on their reading and reminded them to start memorizing their lines from now. The rest of the drama club stood up, but both Shion and Nezumi remained seating until they were the only ones left in the auditorium.

            Shion still hadn’t deemed it safe to look up, and pretended to be studying his shoes as if he had only just noticed he was wearing them, and they were suddenly the most fascinating things he’d ever come across.

            “Are you ever going to stop blushing?”

            Shion glanced up, surprised that this, of all things, was the first Nezumi said. “I – umm…”

            Nezumi’s expression was calculating and revealed nothing of his own feelings, which Shion should have been used to.

            “You read well. I didn’t know you could.”

            “Neither did I,” Shion admitted, shrugging.

            They were silent for a moment, during which Shion started to feel awkward – something he’d never felt around Nezumi.

            “Shall we go?” Nezumi finally asked. “These seats are uncomfortable.”

            Shion nodded and followed Nezumi out of the auditorium, stuffing his script deep into his backpack.

*

That night, the script was unearthed before Shion’s schoolbooks, and he spent the time he usually dedicated to homework memorizing all of his lines, especially those in the last scene. He blushed at the stage directions despite being the only one in his room.

            He wondered if Nezumi would want to practice with him. They always practiced Nezumi’s lines together, even though Shion had never before been in a play. But now that it was Shakespeare, Nezumi didn’t need to practice – he already had all of his lines memorized.

            But Shion didn’t, so wasn’t it Nezumi’s turn to help him out?

            Shion didn’t know how he could ask. He still didn’t know how Nezumi felt about him being the Romeo to his Juliet, as Nezumi hadn’t brought it up since leaving the auditorium, and Shion wasn’t about to reintroduce the subject.

            On top of that, a large part of Shion wanted to drop out. He already felt awkward around Nezumi, and all they’d done was read lines in a group. Nothing was worth straining their friendship, not even a few kisses on stage.

            Despite his turmoil, Shion didn’t mind fantasizing, which he did for the rest of the night, completely forgetting his homework and falling asleep with the script clutched to his chest and his mind full of Nezumi.

*

“ ‘But, soft! What light through yonder window – ”

            “Stop.”

            Shion peeked above his script.

            “First of all, that was crap.”

            Shion said nothing, biting his lip.

            “Are you even trying? You have no emotion at all. How did you even get this part? You read fine the first day, but since then you’ve become shit. What’s going on?”

            “Nothing! I’ll try harder, it’s just difficult. You said you’d help me – ”

            “No, the director forced me to help you after you started ruining rehearsals.”

            “I used to help you all the time, why are you making a big deal?” Shion demanded, defensive. He knew he was letting the director and the rest of the cast down, but for the past few weeks, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the scene they would soon be rehearsing – the scene where he would kiss Nezumi. The thoughts stopped him from being able to speak coherently at all during rehearsals.

            “I wouldn’t mind helping you if you weren’t complete shit. Why are you hiding your face behind your script? I can barely hear you as it is, there is no way your voice is going to carry in there, you are as emotionless as a stale piece of bread, you stand still as if electrified when acting uses the entire body, you’re not – ”

            “Okay! Stop, I get it, I suck!” Shion yelled, throwing his script down on the bed and stomping away from Nezumi to stare out his window. He needed air.

            “Yeah, you do. Instead of shouting about it, why don’t you change it?”

            “I don’t know how! You’re supposed to be showing me what to do.”

            “You want me to show you what to do?” Nezumi demanded, his voice suddenly right behind him. Shion wheeled around to find Nezumi an inch away from him. He tried to step back and found himself pressed against the window.

            “Nezumi – ”

            “ ‘But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief.’ ”

            Nezumi spoke just louder than a whisper, though not by much. His eyes, an inch from Shion’s, did not waver, but seemed to stare so steadily at him that despite the sudden weakness Shion felt in his legs, he was certain he could just hold this gaze in order to stay standing. 

            Shion could not breathe, but Nezumi’s breath, hot on his lips, seemed enough for both of them.

            “Shion?”

            Shion found his voice somewhere deep within his stomach. “Yeah?”

            Nezumi’s eyes narrowed the smallest bit. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

            Shion swallowed. Telling him? Was Nezumi trying to tell him something? Was it what Shion had been waiting to hear?

            He nodded slowly. “I think so,” he breathed.

            Nezumi stared at him for a second longer, then stepped back, and Shion could breathe again. “Good. Now you do it. Use emotion, Shion. This isn’t text on a paper, it’s feeling and passion.”

            Shion blinked. “You – You were just teaching – ”

            “Yeah, and you said you understood, so I expect improvement. Try it again.”

            Shion had the urge to slide down the wall.

            “What’s wrong? What’s with that expression?”

            Shion hated the careful way by which Nezumi watched him. “Nothing, I’m just tired.”

            “We can take a break after you finish this scene.”

            “Nezumi, I think you should go home.”

            “The director put me in charge of you, so you’re going to do what I say. From the top.”

            “Nezumi, go home!”

            Nezumi didn’t flinch at Shion’s shout. He simply gave Shion a long look, then turned and left, leaving Shion to finally crumble down the wall.

*

“Act V, Scene III! Everyone in position!”

            The kissing scene. Shion felt sick.

            “Romeo, quit standing there! Get in your place. Where is Juliet? Goddammit, I’m going to kill that kid. He knows this is our biggest rehearsal.”

            “Maybe he’s sick,” Shion suggested hopefully, then realized he was hoping his best friend had fallen ill. He immediately felt horrible.

            “Oh, no, Juliet does not get sick two weeks before the curtain. Juliet does not screw me over like that.”

            Shion gave the director a sympathetic look, though he couldn’t deny his relief.

            “Fine, we’ll continue without Nezumi. He knows his lines anyway, I’ll just be Juliet in his place for right now. Romeo, just a stage kiss for now. I don’t want to deal with sexual harassment charges on top of my divorce.”

            Shion stared at the director. “Why don’t we just do stage kisses for the actual play?”           

            “Because I don’t run my theater on cheap tricks.”

            “This is a high school play.” Shion immediately regretted his words at the director’s glare and ran to get back into his place.

            With Nezumi absent, Shion was actually able to deliver his lines with some ease, and by the end, the director was beaming at him.

            “That’s why you’re Romeo!” he exclaimed, clapping Shion on the back at the end of rehearsal. “I knew there was a reason. I’m glad Nezumi’s tips are helping. Now why don’t you tell him to get his own act in order, all right?”

            Shion nodded, rubbing his shoulder where the director had hit him a bit too hard, and left the auditorium. To his surprise, Nezumi was waiting by his locker.

            “Hey.”

            “Why weren’t you at rehearsal?”

            “It was Act V, Scene III today, right?”

            “Yeah. The director had to be Juliet.” Shion gently shoved Nezumi away from his locker door so that he could open it and fish out the books he needed for his homework.

            “You had your first kiss with the director?”

            Shion glared at Nezumi and slammed his locker closed. “No. It was a stage kiss.”

            “I see.”

            “So why weren’t you there?”

            “How were your lines?”

            Shion sighed loudly. “They were fine. Better than fine. The director was happy, said he remembered why he casted me as Romeo. Why did you skip?”

            “No reason. I had other stuff to do.”

            “Like what?”

            “Nothing that concerns you.”

            “The director was pissed.”

            “He’s always pissed.”

            “The play is in two weeks. You shouldn’t be skipping rehearsals.”

            “I know my lines, I know my cues. Calm down, Romeo. Let’s go.” Nezumi threw his arm over Shion’s shoulder and pulled him down the hall, and Shion let himself settle into his friend’s side, forgiving him for the heartache he caused him.

*

Nezumi did not show up to dress rehearsal, and the director was livid.

            “That’s it! He’s fired! I’m done with this kid! Thinks he can walk all over me, do whatever he wants, not anymore, no, not anymore…”

            “I’ve practiced lines with him, he knows them all, and he knows the stage directions too – ”

            “That is not the point, Shion. He does not know respect. He does not respect me, and therefore he does not respect my stage or my cast or my play.”

            The director looked close to tearing out his hair.

            “I’m sure he has a good excuse,” Shion said weakly, though he was quite certain Nezumi had no excuse whatsoever.

            “You can tell him not to come to the show.”

            “Who is going to be Juliet?”

            _“I’ll find someone!”_ the director shrieked.

            Shion nodded placatingly. The director had been firing Nezumi since they’d started rehearsals for making snarky comments or falling asleep on set, but his threats were empty. There was no way he could find a Juliet as good as Nezumi – and this close to the show, Shion doubted he’d be able to find any replacement at all.

            The director played Juliet during dress rehearsal again, and again Shion received praise, though this time it was through clenched teeth, as the director was still seething at his heroine’s absence. He sent Shion home with strict orders to tell Nezumi not to show up at opening night the next night, and Shion promised to oblige, though they both knew the director didn’t mean it.      

            Still, Shion made his way to Nezumi’s house that night, letting himself in and stomping to the teen’s bedroom. He kicked the door open to reveal Nezumi splayed on his bed in just his boxers, reading.

            “Are you serious?” Shion demanded, slamming the door shut behind him.

            “Not now, I’m at the climax,” Nezumi said, not looking away from his book.

            “The director said not to come tomorrow.”

            “He’s a funny guy. How’s his divorce?”

            “He was seriously mad, Nezumi. You should have come.”

            Nezumi rolled onto his stomach and let his arm drift off the side of his bed, his book hanging from his fingertips. He pressed his face into his pillow without responding.

            Shion sighed and sat on the bed next to him, poking his back. “You’re going to show up tomorrow, right?”

            Nezumi tilted his head to the side. “Of course.”

            “Why did you skip the dress rehearsal?” Shion couldn’t help but notice that Nezumi only failed to show up to rehearsals where they’d been scheduled to practice their kisses. He wondered if Nezumi knew this as well, and was skipping solely because of it.

            Did he really not want to kiss Shion that badly? Was he that repulsed?

            “How were your lines today?”

            “Good.”

            “Good. Now leave, I’m reading.”

            “You’ll be there tomorrow, right?”

            “Yes, I already said yes, now get out, Romeo. Juliet needs her beauty sleep.”

            Shion left, knowing he would not be getting any beauty sleep of his own that night. There was no way he’d be able to sleep knowing that in less than twenty-four hours, he and Nezumi would share their first kiss.

*

Shion somehow made it to Act V without falling apart. During the balcony scene, he simply pretended that the director was playing Juliet again, though like he’d promised, Nezumi had shown up.

            Shion was not surprised by how beautiful he looked in a dress.

            Nezumi was so good of an actor – or actress, as the occasion would have it – that it wasn’t that hard for Shion to suspend his disbelief and imagine that it wasn’t actually Nezumi to whom he was continuously confessing the love he’d thus far kept secret in iambic pentameter.

            He had a feeling, however, that even his imagination wouldn’t be able to get him through a kiss with the man he’d fantasized of kissing since his first wet dream had revealed to him that his feelings couldn’t be shrugged off as a phase.

            Scene I and II flew past, and soon Nezumi was laying on the ground, and Shion was slaying Paris and carrying him into the tomb. He laid the cast member playing Paris to the side and kneeled by Nezumi, his lines coming out of his mouth without his notice. All he could really pay attention to was the man he had loved, first as a friend and gradually as something much, much more.

            He took out the vial with the “poison,” glanced at it helplessly with the wish that it was something much stronger than dyed water, and leaned down to kiss his best friend.

            Nezumi’s lips, gently open, were warm and soft and Shion might have forgotten the rest of the world had it not been for the wolf-whistle from the audience, after which he straightened up, downed the dyed water, and leant in to kiss Nezumi again, this time letting his lips linger for just a second longer than necessary.

            Had he not recited the lines for this scene countless times in his daydreams as he’d imagined this kiss for months, they would have been forgotten as Shion’s mind went otherwise blank. Somehow, he managed to deliver them before falling by Nezumi’s side, where he lay in relief that he could close his eyes for the rest of the play and simply replay his stolen kisses over and over in his head.

            The play continued with Shion hardly paying attention to what was said around him. He felt a strange combination of electrified and numb – his heart beating scorching heat through his body, but his limbs unable to move if he’d wanted them to.

            And then Nezumi was stirring beside him, and Shion let himself fall into Nezumi’s voice, until –

            “ ‘…I will kiss thy lips; haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to make die with a restorative.’ ”

            Shion felt something soft tickling his cheeks and neck, and it was a moment before he realized it was Nezumi’s hair, and then Nezumi’s hot breath was against his lips again, and then his lips, soft and warm like he’d remembered, were back and pushing against his and parting just the slightest bit and Shion opened his mouth as well, forgetting that he was supposed to be dead and that he and Nezumi were supposed to be just friends.

            Nezumi was gone too soon. “ ‘Thy lips are warm.’ ”

            His voice sounded strange, not like any of the times they had rehearsed in Shion’s room, not like any other time Shion had ever heard him speak. It was raw and open and completely honest, and Shion knew Nezumi was an amazing actor, but he’d never known he was as good as this.

            Shion had never known that Nezumi would be able to make him believe that all the emotion he spoke with was real, all the feeling he put in his lines was not just for the sake of a stupid high school play.

            Nezumi killed himself, and his body draped lightly over Shion’s. Shion was sure Nezumi would be able to feel his heartbeat racing, but there was nothing he could do, and at the moment, he found he didn’t care. He was too overwhelmed to feel embarrassed, too shaken to feel ashamed.

            Lines were said, there was clapping, and the curtain fell. Shion didn’t want to move, but felt Nezumi getting off of him, and opened his eyes after a moment.

            “Let’s go bow, Romeo,” Nezumi said quietly, offering Shion his hand. Shion took it and let Nezumi pull him up and lead him to the line of cast members. The curtain was pulled back again and they bowed, but all Shion noticed was the warmth of Nezumi’s hand in his, his fingers entwined lightly around his own.

            It wasn’t until an hour later, after a teary speech from the director and congratulations from Shion’s mother during the ride home that Shion and Nezumi were finally alone. Shion sat on his bed and watched Nezumi wipe off his make-up through the door of the bathroom. They hadn’t said a word to each other since Nezumi had helped him up to bow.

            Shion got up from the bed and paced, feeling restless. He paused by the bathroom and walked in behind Nezumi, sitting on the edge to the bathtub.

            “Is it hard to take that off?”

            “No. The mascara is the most annoying part, but it comes off pretty easily.”

            Shion fell silent and watched Nezumi splash his face with water. He’d tied his hair up out of his face, but his bangs were scattering out of the bun, and a few strands were plastered to his forehead when he turned around to grab the towel Shion held out.

            “You’re unusually quiet.”

            “So are you.”

            “It’s not unusual for me. You usually never shut up,” Nezumi said. He sat on the edge of the tub next to Shion, who stared at his hands. Nezumi nudged his shoulder with his own. “You did very well tonight. I was proud.”

            “Thanks. You were beautiful. You were perfect as Juliet. I don’t know how you do it – say your lines like that, like you really mean them. It’s amazing. I think this was your best play yet.”

            “That’s because I wasn’t acting.”

            Shion glanced at Nezumi, who was watching him evenly.

            “What?”

            “It was easy to say those things to you like I meant them because I did.”

            Shion attempted to make Nezumi’s words make sense. “Because you…”

            The words were reeling in Shion’s head, but only for a second, as Nezumi was leaning towards him, and his lips were back, just as soft and warm and this time it wasn’t for an audience, it wasn’t for a play, it wasn’t just a fantasy – it was for real and it was for just the two of them and there was no end scene to stop them.

 

THE END


End file.
